Across the Pond
by Acanthus Suetonius
Summary: In his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry meets an American exchange student. All chapters are up and this fic is fin. All necessary changes have been made and the story now meets the standards befitting canon. Please R&R.
1. Across the Pond: Chapter One

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter One_

The roofs of the city of Indianapolis were baking. It was early September, and Helios seemed to be shining extra-hard, in order to avoid losing his position, with the imminent coming of fall. It was in this city, in St. Malefecent's Academy for the Instruction of Benevolent Magical Theory, that a young man awoke, to find himself drenched with sweat. The young man was Uriel Inkwell. He was an aspiring wizard, a sixth year at St. Malefecent's.

Scrambling quickly out of bed, Uriel headed to the showers. He had to get to breakfast early, today. For you see, today was the day that Professor Mercury would announce the winner of the contest—the contest to find the student whom St. Malefecent's would send to the UK, to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

After his shower, Uriel bolted to the Great Hall, his mid-neck-length, chestnut hair still fairly damp. He took his seat at his house's table, and looked up, expectantly, at Professor Mercury. The professor was an unnaturally old man. His skin was stretched, and the frail bones and limp, varicose veins of his hands could be seen easily. His bushy, silver beard was trimmed, and he wore his hair in a nineteenth-century fashion. Oblong spectacles mirrored his violet eyes, which almost always seemed regretful, melancholy…who can say what that man had endured?

Professor Mercury took out an envelope. Removing its contents and reading them quickly, he smiled. "I'm sure you're all excited about the results," he said, "so I had better tell you what they are before you throttle me. And so, without further ado, I am proud to announce that the winner of the contest is Uriel Inkwell." He sat back down.

Great cheers erupted all over the hall. Although Uriel fit the archetypal role of "nerd" perfectly, and so was not immensely popular, he was well liked; and besides, everyone liked him much more than his rival, the snobby and obnoxious Ptolemy Anderson. Uriel cast Ptolemy a gloating, triumphal look, to which the response was a twisted face and a protruded tongue.

_Yes,_ thought Uriel, _I'm going to go to Hogwarts, and not that impudent bitch, Anderson; and as far as I'm concerned, he can go jump in a river!_ Uriel would leave in three weeks, and the anticipation was boiling inside him like so many cauldrons.


	2. Across the Pond: Chapter Two

"Across the Pond"

Chapter Two

That very same day, three thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean, the ancient and serene place that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry reposed in the earliest autumn chill.

It was so comforting, to be at Hogwarts. The place seemed timeless, unbound by the restraints of the cycle of ageing. The war was now at its peak. The Order of the Phoenix and the government Aurors were in a deadlocked stalemate on almost every front; however, it seemed as if they were making headway—the number of free and living Death Eaters was shrinking rapidly. The (rather short) Civil War of the Dementors had resulted in the victory of those who remained loyal to Dumbledore and the destruction of the traitors.

Now, deep within Hogwarts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking through the stone hallway that led to the Entrance Hall, talking excitedly about the contest.

"I can't believe they're actually sending one of us to America!" said Hermione. "I bet they'll be sending me to New York—the wizards there are so sophisticated and cosmopolitan…at least, that's what I've _heard._ And of course Professor Dumbledore would _have _to choose me—I mean, who else in this school is qualified to represent Hogwarts?"

"I think," said Ron, "that you should spend a little more time concentrating on defeating Lord Voldemort and a little less time daydreaming about chasing after daft Yanks!"

"And, of course, you _would _think that way, being the backward bigot that you are!" Hermione viciously spat.

"Will you two just shut up for _one minute!_" demanded Harry. "We're almost to the Great Hall, and I'd like to enjoy breakfast for once in a long year!"

As the trio sat down at the Gryffindor House table, Hermione crossed her fingers and begged silently to be chosen. After a few moments, Professor Dumbledore stepped up to his owl podium. He rummaged around in his pocket for a moment and finally found the parchment envelope, inside of which rested the name of the contest-winner.

He opened the envelope and smiled. "Against all odds and expectations,I hereby announce the winner of the contest to be—" Hermione stood up, and readied herself to go up and accept her award—"PADMA PATIL!" Like air going out of a balloon, Hermione's heart sank. Her bottom lip quivered as she saw Padma shake Dumbledore's hand and smile at the camera of the _Daily Prophet _photographer who was there just for this momentous occasion.

Harry patted her shoulder comfortingly, and Ron felt guilty for teasing her in the hallway.

As they returned to Gryffindor Tower, Peeves the poltergeist swooped down in front of them and began to sing an obnoxious little ditty he had composed almost off the top of his head:

"_Grangie, O Grangie now surely you jest_

_The proud little girl who once beat her chest_

_Is humbled now beyond all repair_

_Maybe someone will burn off her hair!"_

"_Get out of it, Peeves!"_ barked Ron. Peeves complied, whizzing off and making obnoxious sounds as he went.

Upon their return to the dormitories, Hermione went straight to bed. Once there, she fell asleep while stewing in her own juice. She felt sorry for herself, and soon her lip hurt from pouting. This poutiness was not a characteristic Hermione much valued in her, and by morning she had cured herself of it.


	3. Across the Pond:Chapter Three

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Three_

The weeks passed by, and soon fall had began in earnest. Showers of red, gold, and brown leafs blanketed the plinths of the statues in Monument Circle. Indianapolis was beautiful at this time of year: children played in the parks, the very last picnics and weenie roasts were had, and everyone seemed to be at peace. It wouldn't last; Uriel knew that for sure. Soon, winter's icy chill would come. The snow would be piled up on the side of the road so that disgruntled, mid-management pen-pushers could get to work on time, and the only reward for their haste would be that its dazzling radiance and beauty be transformed into dirty, brownish-black slush.

These thoughts passed through Uriel's head as he packed his trunk. He would be leaving tomorrow, and he needed to bring his books and equipment to Hogwarts. As he walked down the stairs that would lead into the Entrance Hall, Uriel was confronted by his arch-nemesis, Ptolemy Anderson.

"Be careful around those Limeys, Inkfingers," spat Ptolemy. " I heard they like to eat pig kidneys! I don't know why I wanted to go to that stupid island anyway."

Uriel bit back a comment about Anderson's bigotry, in favor of a cool-headed comeback. It didn't even have to be particularly devastating, since Anderson probably wouldn't understand it, anyway. "Tell me, Anderson," said Uriel, "have you ever heard the fable of the fox and the grapes?"

"The _what?_" demanded Anderson. Uriel wasn't surprised that Ptolemy hadn't heard of it. After all, he was a nitwit.

"Of course you've not heard of it. Those 'letter' things confuse you, and you have trouble with multi-syllable words, don't you? Tut-tut. Anyhow, 'The Fox and the Grapes' is a fable by Aesop. All of Aesop's fables have morals, and the moral of this one is that people often ridicule things that are beyond their reach. 'Ridicule' means 'make fun of', by the way. In this scenario, you are the fox, and the trip is the grapes: since you are a dumb-ass to whom no one would vote any privilege whatever, you lost the contest, and now you mock it because doing so bolsters your self-confidence. Now, think on that a while. Good day!" Uriel then departed. However, as he was doing so, Ptolemy Anderson cast a disrobing spell at him—one that would rip off Uriel's pants in front of the assembled students. However, it is unlikely that the magical energy even left Ptolemy's wand. He was a highly inept wizard (practically a squib), and he was only accepted into St. Malefecent's because he belonged to a very rich, "pure-blood" wizarding family. Uriel chuckled as he walked away, contemplating this fact.

_Ptolemy,_ he thought. _Anderson's named after Claudius Ptolemaeus, one of history's most powerful wizards! _

In the great hall, he ate a quick breakfast and then spent the rest of the day preparing for his trip. After that, he fell asleep, not knowing that soon, he would be swept away into a grand adventure of huge historical importance, and not knowing that, just a few months later, he would be heralded as : "Uriel Inkwell, the Yank who saved the Boy Who Lived."


	4. Across the Pond: Chapter Four

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Four_

Ah, the thrill of flight! It is a marvelous feeling, to transcend humble Earth, and embark upon a journey into the Wild Blue Yonder! Harry was exhilarated, as he zoomed between the parapets, turrets, arches, colonnades, and pillared halls that comprised the exterior of Hogwarts School.

As he was dive-bombing around the Dark Tower, he saw a figure touch down from his broom near Hagrid's hut. This was perplexing, since staff members were the only people allowed out of Hogwarts at this time of year, and they almost never flew to Hogsmeade. As he considered this, Harry's mind drifted off. As such, he did not realize that he was beginning to drift farther and farther down and move faster and faster. By the time he realized what was going on, it was too late. He was in the front courtyard of the school, approaching the doorway. Realizing he would be dashed on the wall, he bailed off the broom just in time. The end of the broom shaft smacked the vertex of the arch and was sent somersaulting through the causeway. The figure who had landed at Hogwarts (and who had just reached the middle of the stone circle out front) was whacked, smack-dab in the center of his forehead, by one of the broom's steel strirrups, and was knocked out cold.

Uriel woke up several hours later in a daze. "Where am I?" he asked. His glasses were on an end-table next to his bed, and he couldn't see more than two inches past his nose without them.

"In the hospital wing at Hogwarts," responded a nearby blur. Uriel put his glasses on and found the blur to be a lanky young man about his own age, with round eyeglasses and tousled, ebony hair.

"I understand you will be staying with us this term," said an old man to his right. Uriel knew him, immediately, to be Albus Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir," he responded. "And it's an honor to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure," responded Dumbledore. "I know your headmaster, Professor Mercury, very well—he helped me defeat Grindelwald, you know. Now, for the duration of your visit, you will be a guest of Gryffindor House. And since you seem to be on the mend, I had better have Mr. Potter take you there now."

And so it was. When they arrived, Uriel was astounded at the magnificence of the common room. St. Malefecent's was a very grand building, but it was little more than a large mansion—it paled when compared to Hogwarts. But the grandeur of the ancient tapestries, the priceless statues, and the moving portraits that inhabited Gryffindor Tower were eclipsed by the radiance that echoed from Her. Uriel did not know who She was, but does the creature that possesses such elegance, such grace, such classical beauty need a name? Need it be befouled by the simplicity of stumbling human words? No, but she was given a name anyway, regardless of what it was…everyone has a name. The wondrous goddess turned and faced Uriel.

"Hi, Harry!" she greeted. "Is this the exchange student?" She cast Uriel a smile that nearly stopped his heart: her even, dazzling teeth, encased in that rose-like mouth, framed beneath those amber eyes, were like something out of mythology. The young man who had accompanied Uriel answered yes. "Hermione Granger," she continued, putting out her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you." Uriel shook her hand. Oh, what warmth ran through his body upon making contact with Hermione; it was as if one of the Seraphim had reached down from the domain of God, and embraced him. "Uriel Inkwell," he said. "Likewise, I'm sure."

Uriel did not know what to think of his luck. He would be spending the next eight months in the most prestigious school of magic in the world, being taught by the most knowledgeable professors anywhere, and sharing a house with the most beautiful witch he had ever seen in his life.

Fate is sweet.


	5. Across the Pond: Chapter Five

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Five_

Uriel awoke on his first day of school, ready and willing to learn. He jumped out of bed, used _scourgify _to give him sort of an insta-shower, dressed quickly, and departed down the stairs to the common room. The night before, Uriel had grown tired of his hairstyle, and changed it, so that it stuck up in the back, and there met in a point; other parts of his hair were spiked, waved, or otherwise styled so that they coalesced into that back point; all-in-all, creating a very dignified look.

On that first morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were quite gracious, and obligingly helped him around to his classes. (He and Hermione had the same schedule, so he basically had to tag along with her for the first few days—he, too, had a time-turner.) Harry and Ron really took to Uriel. They thought he was absolutely hilarious, and Uriel, in turn, could not help but laugh when he beheld their befuddled faces as he attempted to explain the American game of Quodpot. Hermione loved his witty conversation, and adored getting his opinions on matters like house-elf slavery, the goblin civil rights movements, and etcetera.

Uriel was extremely lucky, in that the classes at Hogwarts were in basically the same period of study as St. Malefecent's, so he did not have much to catch up on. He excelled in all of his classes, and rivaled Hermione in academic prowess. Professor Snape was even more annoyed, now that he had two "insufferable know-it-alls" in his class. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, was enraptured—nothing pleased her more than intelligent students.

As October became November and the chill of winter began to rear its frosty head, the students were forced to spend most of their weekends inside. When not studying ( a hobby that the two students shared) Hermione and Uriel would peruse various books, while toasting themselves by the fire. Hermione had lent Uriel _Hogwarts: a History _and Uriel had lent her _The Life of St. Malefecent and Other Secretly-Magical Saints._ It was on these weekends, when they were warmed by the fire whilst freezing rain or sleet battered the windows that their romance slowly unfolded. One fateful night, Harry walked in on them: they were sitting in the same chair, close to the hearth, sharing a piece of apple pie and cuddling close.

"Got tired of your history books, have you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling. "Reckoned you'd move on to something a bit more exciting, eh?" He chuckled and strolled out of the room. Uriel and Hermione went back to their pie.

"What do you mean, 'smooching and eating apple pie'?" Ron demanded of Harry the next morning at breakfast, looking quite astonished and ruffled.

"Well," sneered Harry, "for someone who isn't Hermione's boyfriend, you seem awfully shaken up by her paying attention to another guy. But, quiet, here they come!" Harry had been able to recognize the pair immediately, because Uriel was wearing the robes of St. Malefecent, and so was the only speck of dark blue in a sea of black.

Uriel and Hermione sat down. As Uriel was helping himself to some bacon and eggs from the trencher, the atmosphere became more and more tense. Harry could tell that Hermione knew that Ron knew something he shouldn't, though she didn't know what; Ron shot Hermione looks of seering scorn every few moments, because he knew what Hermione and Uriel had been doing, which was something that he shouldn't know; Harry knew that if Hermione found that he had told Ron, his head would roll; Uriel knew that all of the aforementioned characters knew what they knew ( even if they shouldn't have known what they knew), plus he also knew that this was perhaps the most delicious bacon he had ever eaten. But then again, laymen legelimens with Elven ancestry can often pick up on these things (oops, I kind of sprung that one on you, didn't I?)

Harry eventually decided to break the ice. "So," he said, "anyone catch the Quidditch game Thursday night?" He looked around hopefully, but then shut back up.

"I know you're going out with Hermione!" burst out Ron, pointing a quivering finger at Uriel. Uriel was strangely silent for a few moments, but, after finishing his coffee and the last bits of bacon, finally spoke: "Ah," he said, "the last horse finally crosses the finish line."

But then, Uriel turned to Hermione. "Did you have a prior engagement with this gentleman?" he asked, indicating Ron. "Please don't tell me you led him on, and made him think he was the only one!"

"No!" she said. "I swear I didn't!" Hermione looked over at Harry to back her up. He remained silent, but gave her a reassuring nod that said, "Don't worry, I believe you."

"Well, then, let us let Our Lady decide for herself," suggested Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, who had just popped up amidst the pancakes.

The eyes of the group all shifted to Hermione. "I guess," she said, "that I would like to keep both of you, but let neither relationship become to serious."

"Then it is settled," said Uriel. "Now let us finish our breakfast."

And so it was. They had reached an accord: both Uriel and Ron would be Hermione's "slightly-more-than-best-friends."


	6. Across the Pond: Chapter Six

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Six_

_Enter Padma Patil_

Padma, however, was not having such an easy time of it. Just when she thought she understood American customs, she would meet a student from an entirely different region of the United States, and would have to start all over again. Plus, that Ptolemy Anderson fellow was always hitting on her. But she was making _some_ progress: customs and accents were not that difficult to learn, and she was really well liked at St. Malefecent's.

She was required to write a report every other week, and send it back to Hogwarts, which is what she was doing now. It was written in Padma's rather simple vocabulary, but was informative anyway:

_Dear Students and Staff of Hogwarts,_

_Everything is as it should be; the teachers here at St. Malefecent's really know what they're talking about and I am doing well in my classes._

_Sincerely,_

_Padma Patil_

Alright, so maybe it wasn't as informative as I said it would be. However, Padma's ambiguity was well-founded: the truth was that she was really rather mediocre in most of her classes, and that everything was not as it should be: there was a constant feeling of fear in the school, nowadays, and there whispers of "the Dark Lord's presence…" "his aura pulsing in the school…" and other frightening things. Of course, Padma daren't ask Professor Mercury about these feelings. She tried (mostly successfully) to put these thoughts out of her mind, but as the weeks went by, this became more and more difficult.

Occasionally, odd, disquieting things would happen: once, a wall in Padma's common room was found, covered in red handprints (upon closer inspection, it was revealed that they had been made with blood); another time, the words "The righteous fools shall perish when the Dawn of Evil is at hand" were gouged in the tables of the great hall; also, the library was ransacked one night, yet all the books were accounted for, save one: _The Most Useful and Potent Magic-Strengthening Charms and Devices_. In the wake of these occurrences, it was hard to explain away the feeling that Padma had in the pit of her stomach…the feeling that the Dark Lord's power was beginning to infest St. Malefecent's Academy. And, though Professor Mercury seemed to know something that no one else in the school knew, no action was taken on the issue of what were now simply being deemed "the Incidents" until some months after they began to happen; Professor Mercury did not send his Letter until late April, and it didn't arrive until early May.

_Enter Uriel Inkwell_

Suddenly, as the four friends were sitting around the fire, an owl swooped into the dormitory and dropped a letter in to Uriel's lap. He read it quickly, and faced them, quite shocked.

"They're sending me home," he said, trembling, "nearly a month early."


	7. Across the Pond: Chapter Seven

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Seven_

After packing up and saying his goodbyes, Uriel mounted his broom and took off. It was a long way from the Highlands of Scotland to Indiana. He would be following the same path he took to get to Hogwarts: from Scotland, he would fly to Iceland (stopping for the night in Norbynynst, the country's single magic-only community), and from there flying to Tingmiarmiut, Greenland, Newfoundland, New York, and then to Indianapolis.

It was a fairly easy trip (except that he was mugged in Norbynynst, but that was OK since he wasn't carrying anything of great value in his wallet or any of his pockets—all of which were pillaged and plundered). He was back in Indy within five days.

As soon as he landed at St. Malefecent's, Uriel proceeded directly to Professor Mercury's office, not even bothering to shed his traveling cloak or doff his flannel-insulated fedora. When he walked into the office, having knocked only once, he found Mercury waiting for him.

"I suppose you're wondering why I called you back so early," he said, pouring hot water from his copper kettle into two cups.

"Of course!" Uriel barked, rather rudely. He regretted it immediately, but Prof. Mercury didn't seem to notice or care.

"You take milk and two lumps, correct?" asked the old man. "Anyway, I called you here because there are odd and disturbing occurrences here in the school of late, ranging from bloody handprints in a dormitory to cryptic, threatening messages scrawled in the dining hall tables.

"At first, I was perplexed. The students and staff report feelings of a malevolent force, and with all of the evil tidings of recent months, I suspected Voldemort. He never invaded the U.S., of course, but you'd best believe he had supporters here, and he had plans. Of course, you have "purebloods" like the Andersons, but they were never very vocal in their support, so I didn't suspect them. Then, one day a few weeks ago, I came into my office, and found it to be utterly ransacked. The gauntlet of John Billingsley was missing."

Uriel gasped. John Billingsley was the first wizard in America, having come over with the Jamestown settlers. His steel gauntlet contained immense magical powers, and was very dangerous in the wrong hands.

"Suddenly," continued Mercury, "it all came to me: a book had been taken from the library—a book on making magic-strengthening items, stolen from the Restricted Section. I knew that none of my staff would do such a thing. I also knew that the only student with a motive was also the only pureblood in the school."

"Ptolemy Anderson," whispered Uriel. It was true that Ptolemy was the only pureblood student at St. Malefecent's—most of the rich families sent their kids to Durmstrang, and the only reason the Andersons didn't was that they wanted to prove their innocence in the Voldemort controversy with as much schmoozing as possible.

"That's right," said the professor. "The poor foolish boy broke into my office—obviously with the aid of a more powerful wizard—and stole the gauntlet, though I'm not sure why."

"His father," explained Uriel, "obviously supports Voldemort. He's taken, I'd wager, the gauntlet and the book in order to make himself strong…strong enough to start up a corps of American Death Eaters."

"Yes, that makes perfect sense," said Professor Mercury. "The night after I sent my letter to you, the other teachers and I went to apprehend Anderson, only to find that he had fled, probably to his family's estate in northern California."

"Then let us go there at once," said Uriel.


	8. Across the Pond: Chapter Eight

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Eight_

Uriel and Mercury dashed to the broom-hangar. They took off at once, and began their flight westward. They flew nonstop all night, and landed at the Anderson estate at about 1:00 AM. Nobody seemed to notice their arrival, so they flew over the fence and landed in a dark section of the side yard, where they ditched their brooms.

"Uriel," said Professor Mercury, "I'm going to try and get him to surrender peacefully. If he resists…we may be compelled to use deadly force."

"I understand," replied Uriel. They crept up to the front door, where he waited in the shadow of the stoop as it met the house. Professor Mercury strolled up, and knocked.

An old butler answered. "Yes?" he asked in a lugubrious monotone.

"I seek an audience with the masters Anderson," replied Mercury in a cool tone.

"Whatever for, and at this hour of the night!" demanded the butler.

"They are guilty of several serious crimes, and I have come to place them under arrest." The butler suddenly pulled out a wand. Mercury quickly disarmed him, and, with a loud _bang! _threw him across the entrance hall. Using _incarcero_, he bound him up with ropes. Mercury then stepped into the house, with Uriel in tow. There before them, on the main stairs, stood Ptolemy Anderson, Jr.

He cast some anonymous petty spell at Uriel (this time, the magical energy actually left the wand, which indicated he had been practicing.) It was quickly deflected, and hit Ptolemy in the rear end as he fled up the stairs. Rather too late, he moved to cover his milky white buttocks.

"Halt!" cried Professor Mercury. The two ran after Anderson. "Stop immediately!" Of course, even Anderson wasn't stupid enough to stop when he was being chased by impromptu policemen.

"_Locomotor Mortis!" _cried Uriel. Anderson fell to the floor, his legs locked. With another blast of_ incarcero,_ he was subdued.

"Now for the father," said the professor. "I wonder where that weasel has dug his burrow." Uriel and Professor Mercury began to search the house. They encountered many traps and guards, but defeated them all. They left no stone unturned as they (illegally) pillaged the house, but could find Anderson Sr. nowhere. Finally, on the third floor of the north wing, they discovered a secret tunnel hidden behind a tapestry.

At first, the tunnel took them straight down in a tight spiral, but after a few minutes, began to widen more and more in its course, until it ran straight, and was a spiral no more. Snagging torches from the niches in the wall, the dynamic duo stalked down the tunnel till they came to a small, thick door, stoutly bound together with iron rivets. As he had feared, it was impervious to _alohamora,_ so Professor Mercury was compelled to use the much more violent method of simply blasting the door into oblivion.

When the dust cleared, they saw a very shocked Mr. Anderson, whose finger still rested on a line in the book he had had his son steal. On a small table next to him, surrounded by candles, was the Gauntlet.

Professor Mercury pointed his wand at Anderson. "By the authority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he said, "I arrest you in the name of the law. Now surrender your wand and come peacefully." He, of course, did not, preferring to snatch up the gauntlet, book, and candles and run from the chamber. Mercury and Uriel followed him. They were drawn down yet another tunnel, one whose stones were, unbeknownst to our heroes, weak with age. The sound and energy of the magic the adversaries cast at each other eventually caused several pieces of masonry to fall, creating a wall of rock between Uriel and Professor Mercury.

"Uriel!" called the old man. His voice was barely comprehensible through the stone. "I'm all right! I'll signal for assistance…don't you dare try to fight him by yourself! Oh, we should never have come alone!"

"Don't worry, professor! I won't attack!" lied Uriel.

Breaking his promise, Uriel ran off after Mr. Anderson.No other tunnels came off this one, so he basically had to run straight. Soon, he came to a large chamber, bisected by a huge, seemingly-bottomless gorge which was spanned by a narrow stone bridge. Standing at the apex of the arch was Anderson Senior.

"Mr. Anderson," said Uriel, "if you give me the book and the gauntlet, and surrender yourself peacefully, I will spare you. Otherwise, I may have to hurt you, and—though I can't say it would cause me displeasure—I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible…you've wasted a fair bit of my extremely valuable time."

Anderson laughed insanely. "No."


	9. Across the Pond: Chapter Nine

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Nine_

"_Evada Kedavra!"_ cried Mr. Anderson.

As that terrible, life-cutting green light came toward him, Uriel seemed frozen in time, just for an instant. He ducked, and it missed. "_Expelliarmus_!" he yelled.

"_Protego!" _countered Anderson. "_Serpensortia!_ I shall enjoy watching you slowly die, as my little friend's venom spreads through your body!_" _Suddenly, a cobra slid out of Mr. Anderson's wand.

" _Impera Evanasca," _said an unimpressed Uriel, destroying the snake. "_Expelliarmus! Incarcero!"_ Anderson was too taken aback by the destruction of his snake to block the attacks, and so was disarmed and bound up in ropes. The force of the attack launched him all the way across the bridge to the other side of the room. Uriel took the book and the gauntlet, stowed them away in his large pockets, and pursued Anderson over the bridge.

"Now," panted Uriel, "since you were not under the Imperius curse, and aided the Dark Lord of your own free will, you are complicit in several crimes. As such, by the power vested in me by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I arrest you in the name of the law. _Wingardium lev—"_

"AAAAAIIIIIEEEEEEE!" Using nonverbal spells, Anderson broke out of his bonds and seized his and Uriel's wands. " _CRUCIO!" _ Uriel was forced onto the ground. He writhed in agony. He had never been attacked with this curse before…the pain was unbelievable…every fiber of his being was ablaze with the pure, fiery, sub-animalistic sensation of PAIN!

But he had to pull himself together…he managed to get on his hands and knees…he lifted his head…with another blast of the curse, he was knocked flat again, adding a jarred jaw to his list of woes.

"Yes, Inkwell…suffer awhile…Does it hurt? I hope so. I hope it kills you. You were always humiliating my son…always being better, more intelligent than him…doing better in your studies…filthy Mudblood…filthy…_half-breed. _You don't deserve that kind of power. You don't deserve to _live. _And you won't for much longer…when my master comes, he'll kill all of you freaks." Mr. Anderson sent another wave of the curse into Uriel, who screamed bloody murder. "How do you like a little humiliation, Inkwell? Doesn't fell very nice, does it? Maybe, if I keep this up, you'll go mad like the Longbottoms…won't that be _fun?_"

And Uriel was about to go mad. He had to get free…had to get free…

"And you and that blood-traitor, Mercury! You fools were wrong. While it is true that there will be Death Eaters in this country someday, that is not why I had my son steal the book. No, it's because that horrid little meddler Potter and that old fool Dumbledore have discovered my master's horcruxes…that is, the devices into which the five parts of his soul are divided. While he doubts that all of the horcruxes will be destroyed, the ones that are will significantly weaken him. So, he had me find a way to make him strong forever. And here it is. The Gauntlet. All of the appropriate charms have been made, except one the book did not know. You see, if I indeed plan to make my master immortal, I will have to create, essentially, a sixth horcrux. Now, this would obviously kill him. So, he will need enough spiritual energy to make up for this extreme splitting of himself. He will need another soul. And so, the last ingredient is: a human sacrifice. And you are to have the honor of being it. Without further ado, _Evada Kedavra!_" This was exactly what Uriel needed. Now that the spell was broken, he had an instant to escape. Uriel did just that, and nonverbally cast the disarming spell. Unfortunately, it went a bit awry, and the wands flew to the other side of the room instead of his hand.

With nothing left now but his most elementary weapons, Anderson launched himself onto Uriel and began choking him. Uriel kicked him firmly in the chest. Wheezing and sputtering, Anderson stumbled backward. Uriel punched him twice across the face and kicked him firmly in the groin, thrice.

"I'm going to kill you," announced Uriel.

He lashed out at Anderson, kicking him in the gut and forcing him down. He kicked him hard in the kidney area several times. He then grabbed the man by the hair and bashed his forehead against the wall. Anderson turned to face Uriel. He back-handed him across the face. Uriel, enraged by the action, began ripping out strands of Anderson's hair and attempting to force them down his throat. Anderson tried to gouge out Uriel's eyes.

Then, all hell broke loose. Down to their most basic instincts, Uriel and Anderson clawed at each other like wild animals, the former leaving long, bleeding scratches on the latter's face. Anderson then punched everything on Uriel, from his face to his gut. He was eventually forced off, taking the front of Uriel's shirt with him.

Uriel stood. He punched the breathless Anderson in the face twice more, then raised his knee, and bashed the old sinner's face against it five times, breaking most of the bones of his visage and destroying his good looks for all time. Uriel grabbed the man by the hair, once again, and hauled him to the brink of the bottomless crevasse. Then, without thought and with a demented, tortured cackle, he pushed Anderson over the edge.

Darkness.


	10. Across the Pond: Chapter Ten

"_Across the Pond"_

_Chapter Ten_

_Final Chapter_

Uriel awoke some time later. He was in a bed in the hospital wing. Professor Mercury sat on the bed next to him. He had tears in his eyes.

"At last, you've awaken. The nurse says that you're pretty much intact, except for a few bruises, and I must say I'm very glad. By the way, this arrived for you in the mail." Professor Mercury handed him a letter. "I'd better leave you alone to read it." The old man stalked out of the room.

Uriel opened the heavy, yellowish envelope. He took out the letter inside and began to read.

_Dear Uriel,_

_I sent this letter on the fastest owl available. Dumbledore was killed last night. Snape killed him. Everything is in a state of chaos right now, and we're all really shaken up. I feel like I can't say what's in my heart to Harry or Ron…oh, Uriel, how I wish you were here! I don't know what I'm going to do…oh, please write back soon!_

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

And Uriel, too, was devastated to hear of the professor's death, and especially so since Snape's treachery had partially caused it. Uriel took some parchment, ink, and a quill from the drawer of the bedside table, and began to write back.

_Most Beloved Hermione,_

_I cannot express my sorrow. I wish I could be there, as well. Send everyone at Hogwarts my deepest sympathies, especially Harry and Ron. Remember, I am always with you, and I am just a short letter away._

_Yours Mournfully,_

_Uriel_

And indeed, he was sad that Dumbledore was dead. But he also knew that the living had too keep on living. After all, he might be dead in a month. The oceans may boil; the mountains may crack; the moon may crash into the earth. But right now, he was happy.

_Carpe Dium._

For, like a January snowflake, through all our driftings and wanderings, we will win and lose; we will gain and molt. And this is as it should be. This thought gave Uriel comfort.

_In the end, life is an objective, neutral experience. It becomes either good or bad by our own decisions, and the decisions of others. Life is arbitrary; life is purposeful. Life is miserable; life is joyous. And in the end, the shadow—whether wrought by ourselves or others—is a passing thing._

The End.


End file.
